


Pretenses

by Antigone2



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: F/M, Post-Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29092782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antigone2/pseuds/Antigone2
Summary: As they entered the lavishly decorated lobby, Mamoru put his hand on Usagi’s shoulder - his palm warm on her exposed shoulders.  “Usa, let’s at least pretend we like each other for one evening, okay?”“Fine,” she muttered, as he guided her into the ballroom, where the Juuban Hospital Charity Gala cocktail hour was already in full swing.
Relationships: Chiba Mamoru/Tsukino Usagi
Comments: 28
Kudos: 135





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always and forever thanks to my BBFF (Best Beta Friends Forever) Irritablevowel  
> And my cheerleader, Floraone

The window glass was cold against her bare arm, but Usagi didn’t move from where she’d pressed herself against the passenger side door of Mamoru’s sportscar. The hazy orange city light illuminated his profile in soft, beautiful lines, but she focused her pout instead on the benign red glow of the dashboard.

“Are you going to sulk the entire time?” he asked, pulling the car up to a valet stand with unusual aggression.

She opened the door before the car had even fully come to a stop, stumbling only a little in her high heels. The valet - who had been reaching down to open the door for her - pulled back a little, surprise on his face. From inside the car, she heard Mamoru sigh.

The hotel lobby doors opened automatically, but Usagi didn’t enter, standing with crossed arms while her husband exchanged the car keys for a parking slip and did the bowing-and-apologizing-on-her-behalf song and dance for the valet. 

As they entered the lavishly decorated lobby, Mamoru put his hand on Usagi’s shoulder - his palm warm on her exposed shoulders. “Usa, let’s at least _pretend_ we like each other for one evening, okay?” 

“Fine,” she muttered, as he guided her into the ballroom, where the Juuban Hospital Charity Gala cocktail hour was already in full swing. 

Tersely, Mamoru said he’d get them some drinks and left to wait in the line at the bar.

Usagi looked around the room. She wasn’t used to feeling uneasy in crowds of people. She wasn’t used to looking at someone and not immediately wanting to be their friend. 

But none of these well-dressed, wealthy people with their murmur of small talk and polite laughter looked even remotely friendly. 

“Fried shrimp, miss?” The waiter walking by gracefully lowered the hors d’oeuvres tray from his shoulder, holding it lower for Usagi’s small stature. 

“Oh yes, thanks!” She grabbed two or three skewers of the shrimp and balanced them on her napkin, taking a huge bite. She hadn’t eaten dinner and was starving. The waiter blinked, then nodded, and moved on to the white-clothed tables nearby.

Women in sleek black sheath dresses modestly waved away trays of passed hors d’oeuvres, and Usagi swallowed the last of her shrimp without really tasting it. 

Her satin burgundy party dress with its short, bubbled skirt had seemed adult and trendy in the shop with Minako, but now looked childish and gauche in this sea of black and gray.

Mamoru had gotten caught up in a conversation with a middle-aged man who stood with a woman who could be his daughter but definitely wasn’t. Normally she’d go over and stand next to him, and he’d squeeze her hand and they’d both catalogue things to laugh about later on the drive home, but she wasn’t feeling particularly hand-holdy tonight. Not after the giant screaming fight they’d had just that morning.

The night before, and not for the first time, his phone had kept going to voicemail as the evening hours slipped past and the dinner she’d worked so hard to make had gone cold. Finally, Usagi called the hospital main line and got a nurse to confirm Dr. Chiba was held up at work and should be home by midnight.

* * *

“I should hear that from you!” she’d accused, stomping out of the bedroom in a nightshirt, bare feet and messy hair, glaring at Mamoru who sat fully dressed in a crisp button down and slacks, the newspaper on the table and coffee in his hand. 

As he looked up at her, his dark hair fell in perfect, piecey bangs across his piercing blue eyes - Usagi couldn’t get her hair to do that even with hundreds of dollars of product, but he just woke up that way, she now knew. 

He looked as he always had, as if his life hadn’t changed a bit since he married her. Since she’d moved away from her warm, rambunctious family home to an apartment that was more empty than not, to dinners eaten alone in front of the television. Mamoru’s apartment didn’t allow pets, so until they moved, she was absent even Luna’s company. 

It wasn’t how she’d imagined married life. She’d expected them to wake up together, sleepily kiss each other to sleep, share breakfast and dinner - not just sometimes, but all the time.

She hadn’t expected to be this lonely.

“I shouldn’t need to call all of Juuban medical to find out if you are gonna be home for dinner or not!” Her words were shouting on without her, all feelings and hurt and frustration from so many thrown away dinners, missed nights out when she stayed home waiting for him while her friends went dancing, phone calls that went unanswered. Like she disappeared from his life as soon as he left the apartment. 

He cringed away from her voice, looking annoyed. “I forget to call sometimes, I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. He pointedly looked back at his newspaper and Usagi wanted to rip it out of his hands.

“Sorry to interrupt your peaceful morning,” she snapped, fighting back angry tears. “I know you like to pretend you aren’t even married.”

“That’s not fair!” he snapped, slamming his coffee mug down so hard some sloshed over the side. He huffed and went to get a towel from the kitchen, since making sure his precious table didn’t get a stain was more important than Usagi’s feelings. Apparently. “Of course that’s not true!”

Usagi rolled her teary eyes and crossed her arms. 

“I’m just not used to needing to be in touch all the time,” he said. “It doesn’t occur to me to call you if I’m going to be late, okay? I’ll try harder.” He ran a hand through his hair, and then it fell perfectly back into place. 

“‘Cause it’s sooooo much to ask,” she muttered.

“Usako-”

“Don’t ‘Usako’ me!” she shouted, and he winced and glanced at the walls - clearly worrying what the neighbors thought - and _oh my god_ he was lucky she still needed him to make Chibi-Usa otherwise she would kill him. “You can’t keep acting like you are still living alone! Like you don’t have someone to answer to!”

“I _said_ I’d call more, okay?” He looked at her with raised eyebrow expectation.

“That’s not only-”

“Look, Usa, I have to get to work,” Mamoru sighed. “Can we talk about this later?” The question was clearly rhetorical, as he was already shrugging on his jacket and grabbing his car keys. 

"No,” she said, shortly. “I don’t wanna talk to you about anything. Ever.” She crossed her arms and turned her back to him, so he could address the waves of sleep-mused golden hair falling down her back instead of her face.

He sighed again, the way he did when faced with a problem, and Usagi clenched her fingers into her arms so hard it hurt. 

“We have the charity gala at the Tokyo Four Seasons tonight, remember? I’ll be home around five so we can change and get ready.” He paused then added cajolingly, “There’ll be free food.”

“Great,” the wall of hair snapped.

He didn’t even bother to attempt any further discussion and left Usagi glaring uselessly at the kitchen wall. 

* * *

Her bad mood hadn’t ebbed much, even after he came home and changed into formal wear he had _no_ business looking so devastatingly gorgeous in. 

Her dress cinched her waist and her hair gleamed in freshly arranged twin buns and perfectly rolled curls. Her make-up was expensive and trendy and Usagi clenched her teeth and swore not to ruin it with tear tracks - holding onto her anger instead.

And now here she was - feeling strangely outclassed and unusually self-conscious and feeling like a petulant little kid while Mamoru was charming the hell out of anyone and everyone he spoke to.

“Sorry, I got a little caught up in conversations,” Mamoru said, appearing at her arm with a glass of white wine. Usagi took a sip and tried not to grimace - it was drier than she liked. 

“Dr. Chiba! Hello! This must be your wife…” And it began, a parade of introductions and small talk, bowing and nodding. Mostly older gentlemen and a few younger socialites, some of whom gave Usagi a clear once-over in either a disapproving or far _too_ approving way.

Women with diamond earrings and plunging necklines got a little too close to Mamoru’s broad shoulders, and Usagi felt him catching her waist and pulling her incrementally closer with each flirtatious smile they sent him. Usagi congratulated herself on not throwing her glass of wine in anyone’s face.

While Mamoru spoke with ease about a topic Usagi found both confusing and dull, his hand eased away from her waist, as he shook hands with people. Usagi watched him sip from the wine glass he held, as if it was made just for his graceful, tapered fingers.

Usagi made herself busy emptying an appetizer tray - mini crab cake after mini crab cake disappearing into her mouth as the waiter sweatdropped behind a polite grimace - when she was approached by two women about her age.

“Hello!” one of them said, introducing herself as Aki, the medical admin at the hospital, and the other woman, Shio, as her wife. She seemed friendly. “Are you here with Dr. Chiba?”

Usagi swallowed down the last of her food and followed it with a large swig of the wine. “Yeah, um.” She glanced at Mamoru, who was nodding with interest at something a small knot of people were discussing. “I’m his wife? Usagi Tsukino, er, Chiba.”

“I didn’t even know he had a wife!” she said, blinking with delighted surprise.

“Really? I call over there enough nights….” she started, trying out a light, fake laugh. Because it was funny, right? That she called the hospital to check up on her husband, that his coworker didn’t even know she existed.

“I work days so…” Aki said, with a sheepish smile. “That’s probably why.”

“And they all wear gloves,” Shio offered, kindly. “So it’s not like you see rings or anything.”

“Right,” Usagi said into her wine glass.

“What do you do?” Shio asked, and Usagi frowned.

What did she do? _‘Well, right now I’m taking a small break between saving the world on a weekly basis with the power of love and a crystal that uses - and sometimes uses_ up _\- my life energy, and being the literal Queen of the World for the next thousand years or so. I died twice, maybe three times before I turned 16, so_ excuse me _for not having a doctorate at 23._ ’ Never mind that Ami did. Never mind that Mamoru would also rule the world and still pursued medicine like the infuriatingly altruistic person he was.

Instead, she said, “I volunteer part time at the city parks office and help out at my friend’s cafe when she needs it.”

A few other people had joined the periphery of the conversation - and Usagi found herself talking to an interested - and not necessarily friendly - sea of faces.

“So,” Aki said with forced sounding cheerfulness, “did you and Dr. Chiba meet in college?”

Usagi shook her head, “No, I… we met much earlier. I was dating him by m-- high school,” she amended, feeling her cheeks heat up. 

“Oh my gosh high school sweethearts, I could just die,” Aki said, smiling. “Where did you go to school?”

“Juuban High School.”

She laughed a little, shaking her head. “No, I mean for university. Did you follow Dr. Chiba to Keio or go somewhere else?”

“Well-- I, uh…”

A woman in a high-slit black sheath dress and long crystal earrings that reminded Usagi eerily of past villains she fought as Sailor Moon leaned over to murmur something to her friend. Wine-red lips clearly mouthed, ‘His wife,’ with a smirk of something between contempt and amusement. She’d been one of the women getting a bit too close to Mamoru just a while ago. 

Usagi lifted her chin and looked right at Aki’s soft brown eyes. “I didn’t go to college,” she said, resolutely. “I hated school and barely graduated high school.”

To their endless credit, Aki and her wife only looked taken aback for a moment before Shio smiled and said that except for sports she agreed high school could be very difficult in this country.

“No need to force something that isn’t a good fit,” earrings woman added, syruply. 

A portly man next to her dragged his drunken eyes over Usagi’s body. “I’m sure your talents lie…. elsewhere.”

Aki and Shio were ushering her away, with matching disgusted looks, but not before Usagi caught the word ’trophy’ in the murmurs from the small group they left behind.

“Oh yes, studying abroad was the best decision I made,” a short, bespectacled woman was saying when Usagi walked up to where Mamoru was in conversation with another small group. “I went to the south of France, in this little village. I learned how to make pâté… let me tell you! I might’ve gone vegetarian right there!” 

The group laughed. “I didn’t have any such culinary adventures in Boston,” Mamoru said, with a small laugh. “Lots of seafood, wasn’t that different.” As Usagi walked up, he turned his body slightly so she could slip into the group next to him. 

Clenching her jaw, she stood stiffly and rigid beside him, stubbornly not letting her arm even so much as brush the starch of his stylish suit jacket. He reached for her hand, and she yanked it back. Mamoru swallowed down the last of his wine. 

Usagi followed him to the bar, even though her glass was only half empty. “I’m gonna go,” she said and Mamoru turned and looked at her with eyes that were glassier than she’d expected them to be. He must have had more than one glass of wine.

“What do you mean?” he said, voice lower and intense. The argument-in-public voice. She was so sick of this. “Because of this morning?”

“No, Mamoru, not ‘because of this morning,’” she hissed, crossing her arms and then uncrossing them. “Because I don’t belong here.”

His brows furrowed in confusion as he looked around the room. “Yo-“

“Not just _here,_ ” she said, and then she shook her head, pressing her fingers to her forehead. “Ya know what? Forget it.”

“Usa-“

“I’ll see you at home.” She turned with what would’ve been a dramatic swish had he not leaned forward at the last moment and grabbed her wrist. She stumbled and turned back to him. His fingers were warm against the pulse at the base of her palm. 

“Usa-“

She yanked her hand back. “I’m gonna get a cab. Alone.”

She left quickly, without looking back. Precisely because it was overdramatic, because she was feeling hurt and wanted to hurt back, perhaps because she was terrified he wouldn’t follow anyway.

* * *

Usagi threw three thousand-yen bills at the cab driver without even bothering to wait for change. She knew it was rude, but also knew the driver - a man about her father’s age - would forgive the girl in the dress who cried the whole way home.

She buzzed herself in and got on the elevator, realizing that she still halfway thought of this as ‘Mamoru’s place’. Like she was just visiting him, and yes, she felt at home here, she always had, but was it _her_ home? 

When she unlocked the door, she was so shocked to see him she dropped her purse, spilling her stuff all over the genkan.

“Ma--Mamoru!?” 

The breeze from the open balcony gently feathered his bangs into his eyes, his jacket was gone and he stood there in a strange, intense dishevelment. 

“Stop calling me that.”

“H--how...” She glanced behind her at the just-closed front door and whipped her head around to her husband. “How did you beat me here?”

Usagi kicked off her heels and walked toward him, once again only coming to his chest without the added height.

Mamoru lifted his left hand slightly, and still curled in his limp fingers was a long-stemmed red rose. The petals still crackled with residual energy, glinting off his wedding ring.

Her jaw felt like it was on the floor. “What if someone _saw_ you? What if… if somehow you got hurt jumping around rooftops like it’s nothing!?” She addressed the rose, as if it could answer for its master’s reckless overreaction. “Why…”

“Why what?” he said, voice hoarse and tinged with an intensity she recognized but couldn't place. “Why did I chase after my wife when she was angry with me?”

“I’m not…” She swiped at her tears. It was useless to try to pretend she was okay, even if Usagi was the type of person who could hide her feelings - and she wasn’t. “I don’t fit in with those people! And I hate it!”

“Since when have you cared if you fit in anywhere?” Mamoru said, incredulously, his voice rising a bit. “Everyone always falls in love with your sincerity… when you aren’t sulking in a corner that is.” He turned his hand palm up, offering her the rose, and she plucked it from his hand and twirled it in her fingers, looking at it, instead of at him.

“I was _sulking in a corner_ because I got called a talentless trophy wife!” Her eyes welled. “I haven’t traveled, I don’t speak a million languages, I don’t have a big fancy degree and-”

She was cut off by the startling warmth of Mamoru’s thumb on her chin, as he gently tilted her face upward, to face him.

“And I was raised in a government-run children’s home,” he said, once he had her gaze, “with a dead-end family register and no legacy to speak of. Don’t you think I feel outclassed sometimes, too?”

Usagi blinked in stunned silence. She hadn’t, actually, considered that anyone, anywhere, could ever ‘outclass’ her brilliant, gorgeous Mamo-chan. 

“Why do you think I work those long hours?” he said. “I’m the most junior and the least connected, so I don’t have much of a choice. That’s why I avoid calling, because hearing your voice would just make me want to come home.”

“Oh,” Usagi said, softly. It hadn’t occurred to her that Mamoru _had_ to stay late, that he might be missing her too. “Mamo-chan, I’m sor-” Her apology was cut short when he tilted her head further and lowered his lips to hers. 

It was a chaste, soft kiss - him leaning over her without touching - and it reminded Usagi of their ceremonial kiss in front of all their friends and family at the wedding that seemed somehow like yesterday and also years ago. His breath still held a strong tang of wine; they’d have to retrieve his car another time.

Those elegant, steady fingers gently curled into the hair-sprayed, frizzy mess of her hair. The soft fringe of his bangs brushed against her forehead as he lowered his mouth to the top of her head, a sigh escaping his lips.

“Why did you marry me?” Usagi asked, softly. “Tell me again.”

He shut his eyes, inhaled the scent of her hair.

“Mamo-chan. Say the words again.” It wasn’t the first time she’d asked this, and it wouldn’t be the last. After years of cat and mouse, walls of trauma and insecurities and pressures of past and future lives, she pulled the once rare and still coveted words from his lips every way she could.

“I love you, Usako.”

He tried to kiss her gently, tenderly, but she wasn’t having it. Dropping the rose to the floor, Usagi pressed her toes into the carpet to stand as tall as she could and crushed her mouth against his. She plunged her tongue past his lips and her hands into his hair, nails scraping along his scalp. He yielded to the onslaught with relish and relief, melting into her with a groan like a sigh. 

Usagi let her anger fall away with her clothing, and drowned her sense of uneasiness in the taste of Mamoru’s skin, the knowledge that these most intimate moments were witnessed only by her - this secret, precious side of her most important person.

The city lights bathed the room in a familiar orange glow, save for the dancing shadow of the curtains, as they billowed from the slightly-open balcony door. For a moment, the small, unremarkable Tokyo apartment was a sacred oasis, away from judgemental eyes and calculating smiles, separate from a shared past of evil villains and alter egos, death and rebirth and predetermined future. It was just them, together and perfect.

And Usagi told herself that was enough. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who favorited/kudos/commented on chapter 1 on Ao3, ff dot net and tumblr! Your feedback means a lot to me.
> 
> It was interesting the different reactions to this fic - some people saw it as pure domestic fluff, others called it 'heartbreaking' or that it made them cry. A few reviews pointed out the issue hadn't been fully resolved. And that's correct, because I wanted to further address things in this chapter. It's still not 100% perfect, because no marriage is, but by the end I hope you feel they got their happy ever after.
> 
> Thanks to Irritablevowel and all the authors in the chat you know who you are.

The door latch was sharply loud in the silent, dark apartment. Usagi sat on the sofa but found herself unable to move. There was a footfall and a female giggle. "Won't your wife be home?" The sound of lips on skin and fabric being shifted over bodies and Mamoru's familiar, quiet laugh. "Oh, that doesn't matter."

A door slammed and Usagi startled awake, knocking an empty soda can from the coffee table to the carpeted floor. The apartment was still dark, quiet, empty. The neighbor across the hall had come home, and the sounds of the door must have entered into her dream. Usagi swiped her hand across her cheek, wiping off drool, and rubbed her eyes.

The clock on the VCR informed her it was 11:43pm. Mamoru would be home soon, assuming he wasn't working late. She blinked blearily at the mess on the coffee table. An open pizza box with two cold, congealing slices left in it. A plate full of crumbs and three empty soda cans, and a napkin or two… plus her instant ramen cup from lunch…

Moving like a zombie, she halfheartedly gathered some of the mess to deposit in the kitchenette.

The dream she'd had made her angry, mostly at herself. Despite her jealous streak still flaring up now and then, she trusted Mamoru implicitly. (And besides, when would he even have time for an affair?) Yet she was always dreaming about him leaving her for someone else, or openly cheating on her, or even forgetting her like he had after Beryl was defeated - looking at her blankly and asking how she knew his name.

Rei said these types of dreams were likely less a reflection of any actual fears, and more a manifestation of general anxiety and deep-seated abandonment issues. Good ol' Rei and her Psych 101, Usagi thought, dumping the pizza box haphazardly into the trash can, leaving it sticking most of the way out.

Too groggy to get ready for bed, she opted to flop back down onto the sofa, flicking absentmindedly through the randomness that was late night television.

Mamoru walked through the door not ten minutes later. He was always so quiet, the turn of the lock and the swish of the door, the sigh that escaped his lips every time he left the blaring light of the city behind for the sanctuary of the small high-rise.

"You are still awake," he murmured, socked feet padding across the carpet. He settled down next to her, buried his face in the crook of her neck.

He smelled like antiseptic, layered with the sharp scent of his car freshener that clung to his clothing. The familiar smell of his cologne, of the shampoo she sometimes sniffed in the shower when she missed him, was buried beneath the residue of the day.

"Usako," he breathed, melting against her, pressing her into the soft cushions. Her fingers curled into his hair and her mouth opened under his, as she pulled him closer. He must be exhausted, she thought, as his hand slid up her thigh, finger tracing the lace edging of her underwear.

"Aren't you tired?" she murmured against his neck, even as her eyes fluttered shut in bliss.

"I can sleep late tomorrow, it's my day off."

Usagi shifted herself up on her elbows, and Mamoru lifted heavy lidded eyes to her, curiously.

"I didn't realize that! I was gonna go to karaoke with some coworkers from the cafe. I'll cancel."

"That's okay," he said, leaning in for another kiss.

"But I wanna spend all day with you," she whined, and he chuckled softly.

"Why don't I join you then? If that's okay," he added quickly.

She looked at him in skeptical delight. "Really? You'd come? Mako-chan will be the only one you know…"

"Sure," he said, with that boyish smile she loved so much. He sat up, rolled his shoulders. "C'mon, we should get to bed then."

"Oh right, you probably wanna get some sleep."

He scooped her up off of the sofa, and she shrieked in surprise, her foot knocking a paper plate onto the floor. "I didn't say anything about sleeping," he said.

* * *

The next morning Usagi woke to the smell of coffee and the rumbling of her stomach. Mamoru's spot next to her was empty, and she sighed, running a hand through messy hair and padding into the kitchenette without bothering with clothing.

"'Mornin', Mamo-chan," she said, yawning.

"Good morning," Mamoru said, smiling. He tied off the garbage bag he'd been holding and placed it by the genkan to be taken out later. "Love that outfit on you."

Usagi frowned. He'd straightened the living room and had folded the pizza boxes, stacked the used mugs and spoons into the sink to be washed.

"Uh. I can do that stuff," she said, brows knitting.

"I don't mind," he said, but Usagi huffed and elbowed past him, grabbing the sponge and dish soap, and started washing dishes.

A few short minutes of working together in companionable silence, the trash had been sorted, the dishes cleaned, coffee table wiped and gleaming. "There," Usagi said, brushing her hands together in an 'all done' gesture. "Now it's like I've never even been here."

Mamoru looked stricken and she backtracked with raised hands and a laugh. "I was kidding, Mamo-chan! Jeeze." She pushed a wave of tousled blonde hair behind her shoulder, revealing her naked breasts and hoping that would change the expression on his face.

But he wasn't looking at her. Rather, his eyes circled the apartment taking in the modern, coordinated colors and the bookshelf full of his books, his knick-knacks, his photos in frames (although all of the photos did feature Usagi). Their wedding portrait hung by the television, and Usagi's stuffed animals and sequined throw pillows littered their bedroom, her giant shampoo and conditioner took up most of the shower shelves (she bought in bulk, she told him, which made a lot of sense), but other than that, the main part of the apartment didn't seem that different from when she merely spent time there, rather than lived there with him.

"Mamo-chan, it's okay!" Usagi said, waving her hand in front of his face in a 'hello' gesture. "I was just joking!"

He turned and looked at her seriously. "We're gonna redo everything," he said. Then his gaze drifted south. "Uh… maybe later today we can go… shopping..."

Usagi loosely wrapped her arms around his neck, dropping a chaste peck on his nose. "Later, if there is time before karaoke. But now… I want breakfast."

* * *

Usagi took a sip of her choco milk and glanced at Mamoru out of the corner of her eye. Mitsui was in the middle of a heartfelt love ballad, and Mamoru's eyes kept drifting closed and then snapping open again with a shake of his head.

"You didn't have to come," Usagi whispered to him, worry and guilt in her voice. "I said I would cancel."

"No, I'm fine," Mamoru said, sharply, reaching for his lemon seltzer.

Mitsui's song ended and Aki-chan jumped up to take the mic. The five others in their private karaoke room were all girls, mostly Usagi's age and younger, who worked at Makoto's cafe with her. Mako-chan herself was busy punching in the numbers for the next song she wanted - she loved singing the girliest, breathiest bubblegum pop songs, but that always involved manually lowering the pitch of the song on the machine, which meant the tall brunette spent a lot of time hunched over the remote, punching in buttons to personalize her karaoke experience.

"Why don't you two do a duet?" Suki said, bouncing over to perch next to Usagi and Mamoru on the carpeted bench along the back wall of the room. "Since you are the only dude here," she addressed Mamoru with a jut of her chin, "it'd be fun."

Usagi turned hopefully but Mamoru coughed a bit and shook his head. "I… uh, don't think so."

Suki sighed and shrugged, "Well if you are sure…" Then Momo held out the mic for Suki's turn and she leapt up to grab it, a metal-based L'Arc-en-Ciel song already starting on the speakers.

Mamoru had definitely sung duets with her at karaoke before, Usagi remembered. But that was with the other senshi, who he was more comfortable with. She leaned her head on his shoulder and took another sip of her choco milk.

She'd already sung three songs: a sad break up song, a poppy duet with Makoto about sweets, and the opening to one of her favorite J-dramas.

Her voice could be a bit pitchy at times, but she still received standing ovations and cheers from her coworkers and Makochan. Best of all, Mamoru gave her that soft, secret smile that was only for her, raising his glass in that classy, understated way of his.

What felt like way too soon, the attendant knocked on the door and informed the girls their two hours were up, and did they want to pay for another one?

Reluctantly, everyone decided they'd better pack up - Momo lived in Yokohama and her last train was fairly early, so she often spent the night on the floor of friends' apartments when things went late, but after a full day shift serving coffee and pastries at Makoto's cafe, she was ready to sleep in her own bed.

Everyone filed out of the room, gathering in the lobby in little groups to discuss any post-karaoke plans. Usagi slipped to the restroom, with a wave at Mamoru and Makoto to let them know she'd be right back.

The stall in the restroom was so quiet after the raucous karaoke that Usagi's ears buzzed in the silence. Then, the sound of the door swinging open and footsteps walking up to the sinks.

"Love that lipstick on you, Momo for real. It's so peachy!" Aki-chan's voice said. "Ha ha, get it? Peach lipstick for Momo!"

"Hilarious," the other girl deadpanned. Their voices were louder than usual, both of them probably having the same cottony feeling in their ears that Usagi did, after loud karaoke for two hours.

Aki-chan slipped into the stall next to Usagi, continuing to talk to Momo through the door. "Okay, but am I the only one who like, doesn't _get_ those two?"

"It does seem to be an unbalanced relationship," Momo agreed. "I'm so surprised they are married."

Usagi, who was about to exit her stall, froze instead. _They could be talking about anyone,_ she told herself. Still, her heart was twisting in a familiar way, ready for them to marvel that Mamoru saw anything in clumsy, hot-mess Usagi. She peeked through the crack between the door and the wall, watched as Momo came out of her stall and walked to the sink.

"I mean, Usagi is like, so genki and lovely?" Aki-chan said, re-applying her lipstick. "She's literally so pretty, she could be with like, anyone?"

"Yeah," Momo added, washing her hands. "I've only met her husband a couple times but he's always so… stiff and awkward? Who comes to karaoke and then doesn't sing?"

"Didn't even clap when she sang her songs! Like, what?"

"And he hardly ever joins her anywhere. She's always by herself, like, why even get married?"

"Maybe it wasn't a love match?" Aki-chan paused, "Do people do arranged marriages these days?"

Momo laughed, "You watch too many dramas."

Aki-chan shrugged. "Well, all I can say is, I just don't understand it."

This was worse.

This was so much worse than people speculating on how Mamoru could be with Usagi - "trophy wife," "talents lie elsewhere," "not a good fit" - but even questioning the worth of her kind, selfless, brave, smart, gorgeous Mamo-chan?! This was… this was unforgivable!

"You don't need to understand," Usagi said, bursting out of the stall, and the girls jumped guiltily.

"Uh… I…" "We…" They fell over themselves apologizing as Usagi washed her hands.

"It's fine," Usagi said. "Don't worry about it." Momo handed her a towel sheepishly and Usagi dried her hands and looked at the girls. "Even if you never understand, Mamo-chan is the best for me and I'm the best for him, and don't ever doubt that again!"

Then she turned and walked out, swinging the door behind her. She walked up to Mamoru, taking his hand in hers. "Let's go home," she said, simply.

* * *

"Usagi-san!" the receptionist at the hospital entrance said, a smile on her face. "Here for dinner?"

Maybe 10pm was a strange time for dinner, but that was Mamoru's meal break, and one of Usagi's best talents was being able to eat anything at any time.

"Yup!" she said, raising the cloth-wrapped bentos she'd brought (store-bought - she was still Usagi). "I'll just wait here."

When the cafeteria was open, she and Mamoru would get trays full of hot food and sit by the windows, chatting and laughing. Sometimes his coworkers would stop by and join them; Usagi was getting to know them all by name, and they her. People were a lot nicer than she'd expected… The snobs she'd met at the gala turned out to be the exception, not the rule.

However, when he worked the night or swing shifts, she'd gotten into the habit of walking into the lobby at all hours and convincing her overworked, exhausted husband that he needed to eat. "How helpful a doctor will you be if you're weak with hunger? Come on, Mamo-chan, be logical here!" Soon enough, his coworkers knew to expect her, letting her back to join him in his small office, bento in hand.

"So how is work going?" Mamoru asked, opening the bottle of sports drink Usagi had brought him ("Hydration is important!").

"Okay," Usagi said, between bites. Things had been awkward for a bit with Momo and Aki-chan but they'd all gotten over it after a few shifts together. After all, as crappy as it was for them to talk behind her back, she did owe them for her epiphany that nobody's opinion mattered but hers and Mamoru's. "But I'm not sure I love it, and I wanna do something I really love."

"Any ideas?" he asked, all focused, intelligent eyes and gentle encouragement.

"No!" she moaned, throwing her head back in anguish. "Not a single idea! But I can't just rot around an empty apartment all day watching television."

Not that she did that too much anymore; she'd taken to visiting Mamoru at work instead of waiting in silence for him to come home, and started volunteering more and more at the park - they'd set up activities for kids to learn about nature and Usagi was finding she really enjoyed those.

"Well, this doesn't help much with your future career," Mamoru said, "but if you wanted to use some of your free time to apartment hunt…"

Usagi gasped, sitting up straighter. "Really?!"

He smiled. "Yes, really. I think we are in a place financially where we can definitely get a bigger place. One that would allow pets." Usagi's eyes lit up. "And maybe with room for a guest or two sometimes." Usagi gasped in delight.

"I'm gonna go to the real estate office tomorrow!" she said, clapping her hands while Mamoru chuckled.

"Such a cute couple," one nurse whispered to another as they passed Dr. Chiba's office.

The other smiled wistfully. "Just perfect for each other."


End file.
